


The Perfect Path Is An Illusion

by Nanaki_Lioness



Series: Pathverse [8]
Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, M/M, Perfection Complex, Teachers, mentions of disordered eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanaki_Lioness/pseuds/Nanaki_Lioness
Summary: [DeiItaDei, AU, Pathverse] Even after five years Itachi just can't shake the spectre of perfectionism, haunting his every move. Deidara has been in its shadow long enough; unlike Itachi, he realises that perfectionism is only an illusion. All illusions must break eventually, even if they need a tip in the right direction to do so.





	1. Nightfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in an AU universe I’ve written about before (look for anything with Path in the title, starting with The Preferable Path To Perfection Is You.) There may be moments that are harder to follow without knowledge of the universe, but overall it should be okay enough.
> 
> Itachi and Deidara are in an established relationship. I prefer writing the emotional side of relationships, which is reflected throughout the series. This is set five years after their marriage in ‘My Big Gay Path Wedding.’

Under the bright lights of his classroom, Uchiha Itachi was sitting at his desk staring off into nothingness. It certainly wasn’t the best way to pass the time, nor was he actually doing what he was paid to do. Unmarked assignments by his pupils sat in front of him, half touched, as his mind wandered away from his responsibilities.

Eight thirty at night was not the best time of day to start back on the marking in front of him. It gave him ample opportunity to finally call it a night, standing and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. It was raining outside, darkness setting in on the late spring day.

He walked through the school hallways, his footsteps echoing in the eerie silence of the building. Usually the halls were filled with children, chatting loudly and giving the place life, where his footsteps would go unnoticed in the general ambience. There was something about it that made him feel oddly exposed.

He ignored it and quickly made his way down the nearby stairs, heading for an exit- only to find it locked. Itachi glared at it, trying the handle once more, but it didn’t budge. The next one he tried was locked as well, and he realised with a start the janitor had likely locked up for the night. They were supposed to do a sweep of the classrooms before doing so, but with so many rooms to check it was no surprise that part had likely been skipped over. Itachi figured that no other teachers fancied sticking around long after school hours finished.

He pulled out his phone, turning it over in his hand before putting it back into his pocket. It wasn’t like there was anyone he could call to help, and nor did he have anyone waiting up for him. He faltered at the thought, pushing it out of his mind as he headed towards the staff room.

As he walked he figured he should at least text Sasuke, since he might wonder why his wayward brother had decided not to grace his home that night. Sending off a quick text to explain the situation, he collapsed down onto the worn out sofa in the staff room and closed his eyes wearily. It didn’t escape his thoughts that there was one person he could talk to, who might just be able to help him.

His brother soon texted back to laugh at his misfortunate, which he had expected, and he decided against replying further. Instead he stared down at his phone once more, finally swallowing his pride and attempting to type a message out to Deidara.

Deidara and he had both attended university together, emerging the other side as qualified teachers- Deidara in art, and Itachi in geography. They had applied at the same school, which had recently lost a number of staff, and had both been successful. It had worked out wonderfully when they were actually on speaking terms. Now it was just torturous.

Deidara had every right to ignore him, Itachi reasoned as he typed out a text message to him. _‘I’m locked in the school. Can you please ask the janitor to unlock for me? I’m in the staff room. Sorry to ask.’_ Short, to the point, and hopefully effective. Deidara and the janitor were on good terms. Itachi just had to hope his partner (ex-partner, he lamented) had a way of contacting the man, and that he would even want to.

He threw the phone down next to him, sighing heavily and staring up at the ceiling. He truly loved Deidara, and yet every time he self destructed he always managed to take him down with him. It always came down to the same thing, even now so many years later, and he cursed his very existence that his need to be perfect was still getting in the way of his life. He’d left in the middle of the night, leaving Deidara with a note that said he’d be back when he straightened his mind out. However it hadn’t worked out that way, because Deidara had said ‘no’ when he had returned. He hadn’t even been angry, which was possibly the worst part.

The moment Deidara had taken the reins of the relationship, Itachi had fallen apart. There’s an element of control to what’s going on with you, one of his therapists had said, and control is what you need. She’d also warned him that lacking control may manifest itself in scary ways, and he only realised how right she was when faced with that web. _‘Perfectionism can be damaging, Itachi. You’re at a greater risk of suicide, anorexia, anxiety- a whole gauntlet of issues.’_

When it became clear Deidara wasn’t going to reply, he laid back on the sofa and attempted to get comfortable. It wasn’t going to be the best night’s sleep he’d ever had, but if he was going to be functional to teach the next day, he had to try and rest. He’d finally started to drift off when the door opened, jolting him out of his half asleep state.

Deidara stood in the staff room doorway, his face unreadable. “He’s waiting for us, yeah. Come on.”

Itachi quickly got up, thanking Deidara and following him out of the room. The halls were still far too quiet, and he couldn’t bear it. He felt ridiculous- this was his husband, his best friend, his soul mate. Surely he could muster up a few words to say to him!

“Thanks for coming,” he finally said, the halls echoing despite the quietness of his voice.

“Don’t.” Deidara’s voice was sharp enough to cut. “I’m only here because I got dragged along for interrupting his evening Netflix session.”

His tone silenced Itachi, and kept him that way until they were safely outside of the school grounds. The janitor had given them a wave and left, assuming they would be heading home together. Neither of them had made it public knowledge that they were currently separated.

Deidara waited until the man was out of earshot to speak. “I’ll get myself home.”

“It’s raining. I’ll give you a lift.”

“I like rain.”

“I know, but-”

“Shouldn’t I move out, anyway? You could move back from your brother’s house then.”

The thought made Itachi’s blood run cold. “Don’t move out. It’s your house too.”

The silence between them was unbearable. Rainfall battered the concrete almost melodically, puddles forming in the worn dips of the school pathway around them. It drenched them both to the bone, Itachi surrendering helplessly to its icy grip as the sound masked the pounding of his racing heartbeat.

“We need to talk, Itachi. You can’t avoid me forever, yeah.”

Itachi looked up from the floor, meeting Deidara’s steady eye. “I’m not avoiding you, I’m giving you space.”

“And what makes you think I wanted space instead of an actual conversation with you about this?”

“You haven’t made what you wanted clear.”

Deidara laughed shortly. “Itachi, I always make what I want clear. You’re the idiot who can never see what’s right in front of him, yeah.”

“Is now really the right time for this?” Itachi looked up to the sky, catching an eyeful of rain for his trouble.

“It’s never the right time, is it?” Deidara looked resigned as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “You always have some kind of excuse, yeah.”

“You can’t tell me this is ideal,” Itachi said, though really he knew Deidara was right because he could, instead, be saying ‘then let’s go somewhere else.’

Itachi didn’t stop Deidara as he walked away without replying, quickly turning away and heading out of a different gate. He’d parked his car outside the gates knowing he’d likely be staying late but he didn’t bother to rush to it, happy to let the rain continue to chill him- if he stayed out in it long enough, maybe it would drown him. Sasuke had told him that he was heading down a dangerous path. Itachi knew it, too. It was one where the air was heady and sweet with poison and all the blades of grass cut like knives, yet he welcomed it.

Once in his car he switched the heaters on, putting his hands close enough to burn as he watched Deidara’s vanishing form in the distance. Every step on this path took him closer to ruin, and he was practically sprinting.

-.-.-

Black coffee: two calories. Apple: fifty two calories. Mentally berating himself for giving in to the overwhelming need to control something, anything, even if it was potentially dangerous: two hundred calories. Satisfied that breakfast was sorted, Itachi made his way to his car without a word to Sasuke. At least it was Friday, and once through it he would have two days of not having to put on a show to his pupils.

He was a popular teacher. He liked to think it was because he was fair, but if the rumours were anything to go by he knew it was much more superficial than that. The girls made lists of the most attractive teachers, and his name had made the top within a week of him joining. The way they fluttered their mascara-coated eyelashes at him told him the same story. He hated the attention, and generally tried to just ignore it.

He got to work with plenty of time to spare, hiding in his classroom. He liked his room. It was large and airy, with windows spanning the sides since it was on a corner of the building. It meant spending multiple hours a day there was less tedious than he originally thought it would be. He already had lesson plans for the day ready, so he took the moment to take a book out of his desk drawer. He needed to keep his mind active, and it would be a good distraction. It was working too, right up until he was interrupted.

“Mr. Uchiha?”

Itachi glanced up at the girl in front of him. It was too early for any of his registration pupils to be entering yet, and she wasn’t even part of that group.

“I didn’t take you for a Stephen King kind of guy,” she said, indicating the book. “You like horror?”

“Not really.” Itachi wasn’t going to explain he’d picked it out of the library because he had been thinking about the first date night he and Deidara had shared, cowering under a blanket together from a horror movie. The research tomes in the school library were heavy and their pages thick enough to leave a paper cut, as he’d discovered as he’d run a curious finger across the edge of one.

“He spelt cemetery wrong.” She pointed to the cover as Itachi closed the book. “He should know how to spell.”

Itachi was in no mood for small talk with students. “Is there something I can help you with?”

She looked suddenly nervous, twisting a strand of hair around one finger. The same nervous habit as Deidara. “Is it true you and Mr. Andersen are married?”

Itachi frowned at her. “Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know. I just did. Is it true?”

“Teacher relationships are not really any of your business. Don’t take any notice of rumours.”

“Yeah, but are you?”

“Will my answer change my ranking in the attractive teacher list you and your friends have taped inside your lockers?”

The girl gave some kind of strangled response before fleeing, leaving Itachi to pick his book back up with a heavy sigh. Of all the people to talk about his love life with, the pupils of his classes were not his first pick. He wasn’t surprised word was beginning to get out about he and Deidara though. It was no secret amongst the staff, even if they were in the dark about the current status between them. All it took was one comment to be overheard by a pupil, and the rumour mill would spin into overdrive. He was surprised it had taken so long to do so.

It seemed his early visitor wasn’t the only one who had overheard gossip. As his registration pupils filtered into the classroom not long after, one boy approached the desk with a friend in tow. He was all smirk and attitude, so much like Sasuke at that age.

“Alright Sir,” he said, the smirk not leaving his face. Itachi really disliked being in charge of fifteen year olds sometimes. “I heard you and Mr. Andersen are married. Who fucks who?”

The idea of having to dodge questions all day made Itachi feel exhausted before the day had truly begun. If he and Deidara’s relationship had been in a healthy place, he wouldn’t have avoided the questions at all. He’d have admitted to it, and let the rumour mill move to another target. But now, when things were so complicated, he couldn’t bring himself to.

-.-.-

Over in the art department, Deidara was having the same issue. None of the pupils asked him directly as they sat down for registration, but the room with rife with loud chatter about it.

“I heard they fucked in the back of Mr. Uchiha’s car,” a boy said crudely as his friend next to him laughed. “Someone said they saw them at it.”

“Mr. Uchiha _does_ have a really nice car,” his friend replied. It was true- Itachi had finally upgraded to a black Mazda 6 courtesy of Madara’s wedding gift money. “Is that true, Sir?”

Deidara ignored their questions, quickly taking the register and dismissing them. When they had all left, he readied himself for his first class of the day and tried not to think about Itachi. Sasuke had been keeping him informed about him, with only concern and none of his usual mockery. It made Deidara concerned too, because the last thing he wanted was to watch Itachi find new ways to fall apart.

He was so tired, though. In the years since they had married they had attended university and graduated together. He’d lost track of the amount of times Itachi had stumbled, but he had always picked him up and dusted him off. Itachi no longer craved the approval of his father, and nor did he usually fall into the same pitfalls with perfection that he used to until more recently. It was more sinister now, underlying and sometimes unknown to even Itachi himself. But Deidara could see it- without control, Itachi slipped. When he dictated the pace of their life, Itachi felt things were fine. Unfortunately, sometimes that control was taken from him in other ways and he’d seemingly lost the ability to cope with it somewhere along the line. All Deidara had done was nudge him so that he could be ready to catch the inevitable fall, and then work on finding out what had gone wrong along the way.

Sasuke had texted him that morning, blunt and to the point as always, but his concern shone through like a beacon. _‘He doesn’t speak to me and he’s not taking sugar in his coffee anymore. I think you broke him.’_

Deidara had been quick to point out that _he_ hadn’t broken him, and that Sasuke was a jerk for even suggesting it, but Sasuke had no scathing response to give. He’d said nothing more, because there was nothing more to say.

It had to end, Deidara decided. Whatever it was, whatever Itachi was getting himself into, had gone far enough. They had an upcoming school trip away the following week that they both had to attend. He had the weekend to plan what to say, and he would use that trip to say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Hello! Just over ten years after I first started posting this series, I finally managed to stitch together the fragments of what I have called ‘future Path’ for years now. It’s finally all grown up, fleshed out into a real story and ready to post. I might be the only one left who wants to revel in this universe (and I wrote it, I’m allowed to indulge!) but I promised to post it all that time ago, so here we are. Welcome back if you’re an old reader, and hello if you’re new. I hope you enjoy this!


	2. Freefalling

**2.**

Itachi could think of so many other places he wanted to be right then. Pretty much anywhere else, in fact. On a coach filled with teenagers at five am was most definitely not high on the list of things he’d wanted to do on a Monday morning, yet here he was. They were heading on the annual weekly trip for Year Ten students, and all the teachers with a registration class in that year were pulled along for it. That meant him, and that also meant Deidara.

Deidara, who was standing at the front of the coach, herding kids on with a smile. He was so good at projecting a different image to people. Itachi was jealous of how easily it seemed to come to him, when by contrast he had to balance everything to appear flawless. He tightened his grip around the paper coffee cup he was holding, burning even through the safety sleeve. Wrenching his eyes away from Deidara, he relished the aching of his palm as he stared out the window and took a deep breath to calm himself. They hadn’t even moved and his mind was already in disarray.

The problem with the other staff not knowing about he and Deidara being separated was that they had left the seat next to him empty. Deidara didn’t give a greeting as he sat down; instead, he had something else to say. “Sasuke says you’ve stopped taking sugar in your coffee, yeah.”

Itachi frowned at him, suddenly conscious of the throbbing of his burned palm. He clutched the coffee cup tighter anyway. “Why would he tell you that? How is that even relevant to anything?”

“Everything you do has relevance, Itachi. Don’t even try to pretend it doesn’t. When you’re stressed you add more sugar, not less.”

“Don’t worry about how I feel,” Itachi said, smarting that Deidara had remembered that. “You just handle sorting out how _you_ feel, and whether you’re done throwing a tantrum.”

He regretted it the moment the words left his lips. He was tired, irritable and much too aware of their surroundings, but that was no excuse. Deidara looked hurt, but he recovered quickly.

“I’ve given you _years_ to face your issues.” His voice was low and far too deathly calm. “Don’t you _dare_ try to make me feel guilty for stepping away for a while, after all this time.”

The silence that reigned was oppressive. Itachi turned to the window and slowly sipped his coffee, not looking at Deidara and trying to think of something to say. Deidara didn’t give him the chance, pulling his sketchbook from his bag and furiously drawing instead. With nowhere to run, Itachi put a hand out to Deidara’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Deidara didn’t stop sketching, nor did he look up.

Itachi withdrew his hand, turning his gaze to the window and feeling suitably ashamed.

-.-.-

They stopped at services after a couple of tense and awkward hours. Itachi was glad to flee Deidara’s company, which had been rather like sharing space with a caged tiger. Not that Itachi blamed him; he’d been the one to cage him in the first place.

Wanting simply to be left alone, he instructed the students to meet back at the coach half an hour later and vanished into the large dining court area inside. It was busy so he was able to slink away to a quiet corner by himself unnoticed, closing his eyes and letting the hum of busy people chatting and the clinking of cutlery calm his mind.

“I couldn’t find cinnamon cake, so hopefully lemon is good enough.”

He opened his eyes in surprise and looked up at Deidara. Apparently he hadn’t gone unnoticed after all.

“This doesn’t mean I’m still not angry,” Deidara said as he put the plate down in front of Itachi, sitting opposite him. “But whatever’s going on with you is bigger than me, and than us. So here I am, because our vows included staying by each other in hard times, and this is a _very_ hard time because I’d rather like to punch you right now.”

“Then the kids really will talk,” Itachi said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry, yeah. Can you just talk to me instead?”

“About what?”

Deidara exhaled lengthily, looking skyward for a moment before fixing Itachi with a no-nonsense glare. “Eat the cake.”

Itachi was taken aback, blinking a couple of times on confusion. “What?”

“You heard me. Eat it.”

It shouldn’t have been such a difficult request. Itachi had a sweet tooth and was acutely aware breakfast had consisted of black coffee, but the request riled him.

“I’m not a child,” he said firmly. “I don’t need you looking after me.”

“There’s so much to unpack here,” Deidara told him as he leaned back in his seat wearily. “What are you annoyed about now? Wait- I’ll just pretend there was a pause here, because we both know you’re going to ignore that question, and now I’ll take a guess. You don’t want me taking your choices out of your hands.”

He was spot on. Itachi kept his features neutral and watched Deidara impassively, and gestured for him to continue.

“You don’t care about the food or the calories or whatever. You just care that you feel out of control, yeah. You have to control something because you don’t control us anymore. Isn’t that it?”

“I didn’t control us,” Itachi said automatically, the instinct to deny overriding whether that was actually true or not.

Deidara was clearly unimpressed, raising an eyebrow in question. “Do you remember when we got engaged? I offered to take over everything for the wedding, and you said no. You actually said ‘if I have no control over it I will be a complete wreck’, yeah. I let you have it, but in hindsight maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Are you done?” Itachi said pointedly, resisting the urge to run. He always ran when things got difficult. He ran or made excuses or lied, because facing reality was always so much harder than setting up illusions to live in.

“I’m done watching,” Deidara told him. “It’s been two months. I’ve made it clear I’ve been open to honest discussion whenever you’re ready, but you’ve just withdrawn into yourself even more. When we do talk, you deflect and run away or make excuses. No more excuses, yeah.”

“Is this appropriate?” Itachi gestured to the loud hall around them. “This is a school trip, and we have about twenty minutes before we need to go and round the kids back up.”

“Later, later.” Deidara sounded calm, but Itachi knew he wasn’t. “I’m sick of being told later. We can get a lot said in just ten minutes of that twenty.”

Itachi slowly, deliberately, pushed the plate with the cake on it back towards Deidara. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

Deidara didn’t rise to it, standing up and shifting his chair so he was next to Itachi. Itachi eyed him wearily, unsure of what to expect.

“That shirt used to be fitted,” Deidara said, laying one hand on Itachi’s arm. “Now it’s a little too loose. Sasuke’s right, you’ve lost weight.”

“When was Sasuke talking about my weight?” Itachi said crossly.

“That day when you forgot the house keys and we went to his place to get our spare. About two weeks before you walked out, remember?”

“No,” Itachi said. He’d been too busy worrying that day about what he was going to have to do, having already made the decision to leave. It was the reason he’d been absent minded enough to forget his keys in the first place.

Deidara’s hands on his sides made him jump, and he pushed him off quickly. “What are you doing? Students might see you.”

“I’m seeing how worried I need to be. I want to know how much damage you’re doing to yourself in your bid to fuck yourself up.”

“What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“Really?” Deidara was clearly frustrated. So, so frustrated. “You’re going to pretend like you’re not trying to self destruct? There’s so much going on and I probably only know half of it, so why don’t you fill me in?”

“There’s nothing-”

“Itachi.” Deidara’s voice was enough to stop Itachi immediately. “Don’t.”

Reanalyse and try a different approach; Itachi leant back in his seat casually, giving off an aura of disinterest. “I honestly don’t know if I’ve lost weight-”

“You have.”

“-but I’m not trying to,” Itachi continued, ignoring the interruption. “If I’ve lost a few pounds it’s because I’m stressed and not eating well. That’s very different from what you’re suggesting.”

Deidara studied him carefully. Itachi knew it was to tell if he was lying, which for once he wasn’t. He didn’t care about losing weight or calories. It was just an easy, convenient new way to punish the inner voice that told him to be perfect all the time. Like the sharp edges of the library tomes or the scalding coffee cups, which were just opportunities taken when control felt out of reach. It was problematic, massively so, but he’d buried the voice that told him that a while ago.

“Fine,” Deidara said, his voice clipped and weary. “I’m watching you this week, yeah. No more excuses.”

Itachi felt exposed, not knowing what else to say or do. He finally stood up, knowing Deidara was going to say something about it, but past caring. “I’m done talking about this. This isn’t the right time, or the right place.”

“Mm,” Deidara hummed, sounding more carefree than Itachi expected. “You’ve had two months to have the conversation on your terms and somewhere _convenient_, yeah. Now it’s my turn. Oh! And I should warn you, they booked us a double room. Senior staff don’t know about us being separated, remember? So we get to share a room this week. You’re out of places to run to.”

Itachi was so tempted to say ‘just watch me’, but being contrary was only going to escalate things further. He had to walk away now, calm down, and get his professional (perfect) demeanour back in time to round up the students.

“We’ll talk later,” Deidara called to him as he walked away.

“If you want,” Itachi called back. After all, no-one had specified just how much later that would be.

-.-.-

When they’d arrived at the hotel the students had been assigned rooms and left to their own devices. As teenagers they were given freer rein than younger pupils might have got, and as long as they stayed in the hotel grounds they could explore to their heart’s content. It also left the teachers off duty with an evening free for themselves.

To the absolute surprise of no-one, Itachi had vanished. Deidara tried not to let it bother him as he lay on the double bed alone, staring up at the ceiling in thought and wondering at what point they’d both become so disagreeable. It had been at least a year, if not longer, since Itachi’s attitude to life had changed. It had been so subtle that Deidara didn’t see it at the time, but like a terminal disease it had soon metastasised and halted both of them in their respective paths as it touched every single aspect of their lives with its poison.

So Itachi had vanished that night- it didn’t matter, he told himself. He had to come back eventually, and they had four other nights to go. They would talk, and it would be resolved. He just had to wait a little longer, and what was one more night after two months?

He got up and shook the sullen thoughts from his mind, pulling his sketchbook from his holdall and taking it back to the bed. He’d just draw until his pencil ran out and his mind stopped driving him crazy with worry instead.

It was sometime late in the night- or early in the morning- when Deidara awoke to the sound of the door being reopened. The lamp was still on, so he could see Itachi clearly when he walked through the door.

“Finally decided to come back?” Deidara said, taking care to sound neutral- unthreatening, in case Itachi turned around and left. “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?”

He didn’t get a reply, which was nothing unusual. What _was_ unusual was the way Itachi took two steps into the room and grabbed the wall for support. Deidara studied him as he made his way towards the bed, sitting up and scowling when he realised what was going on.

“Are you _drunk_?”

“To say I’m inebriated is overkill. The effects will pass by morning.”

“You are completely missing the point! What happened to appropriate behaviour on a school trip? You’re such a hypocrite. You’d rather sit at the hotel bar all night than come up and talk to me?”

It was a new low. Deidara had never felt more wracked with despair than in that moment, but it wasn’t long before he channelled it into anger. He easily dragged Itachi into the bathroom and switched the shower on, making sure to lock the door when Itachi finally realised what was about to happen.

“Deidara, don’t you dare.”

“You did it to Sasuke once,” Deidara said. “It worked then, and it’ll work on you too.”

With that he forced Itachi to his knees by the bathtub, which took no effort at all, and pushed his head under the cold shower. Steadily ignoring Itachi’s cries of indignation, Deidara counted to five before letting him up.

“This is the bit where you tell me you hate me,” he said as Itachi looked round at him, soaking wet and eyes like daggers. “You’re an irresponsible idiot. What were you _thinking_?”

He didn’t wait for a response, repeating another five seconds. Itachi finally scrambled away this time, gasping as he pushed his sodden bangs out of his eyes. “Does it matter? Why do you care?”

Deidara was almost taken aback by the level of venom in Itachi’s voice, and had to remind himself it wasn’t personal. It was just what he did when cornered. “Tomorrow- no, today- we’re going to the field study centre. Kids are going to catch tadpoles with nets and put bugs under microscopes, and we have to stop them from falling into ponds and drowning. You can’t do that in this state.”

“Yes I can. And if I think I can’t, I’ll call in sick.”

“You don’t call in sick because you’re perfect, Itachi; you don’t get to use that as some shining star of responsibility. And no, you’re coming on the trip today.”

Itachi glared at him, leaning back against the bathtub to steady himself. “Am I now?”

“I’m going to find a pharmacy first thing before we go, yeah. I’m going to tell the pharmacist that my stupid husband is nursing a hangover and has to go to work, so give me whatever they can that will tide you through the day relatively safely.” The look Itachi gave him was enough to tip Deidara into spiteful territory. “Or I can just let you suffer and not help you at all? Be grateful I’m even offering to help you, because you sure as hell don’t deserve it right now.”

Itachi averted his eyes to the floor instead, looking suitably chastised. It left Deidara with an opening that he seized immediately.

“None of this is ideal, yeah. This isn’t the right time, the right place, whatever. But I can’t sit by and watch you deliberately seek out things that hurt you. Even this-” he indicated the two of them “-is another thing on that list. I love you, and I don’t want to watch this.”

It took Itachi a moment to answer, his voice low and neutral when he finally did. “Then don’t.”

Deidara wanted to strangle him, settling for glaring instead. “That’s not how marriage works, yeah. Would you rather fall to pieces, or would you rather get help? Because I would hope it would be the latter, and that’s the job of a doctor, or a therapist, or someone trained. I can support you, but I can’t fix everything.”

“We’ve had this discussion a hundred times,” Itachi said, cagily not meeting Deidara’s eye. “I’ve tried all that.”

“And when you really engaged with it, it worked. When you stopped taking the meds and refused to talk to your therapists properly, it stopped working. You aren’t stupid. You can work out the correlation. Everyone has ups and downs, but your downs always find some new way to surprise me, yeah. Do I even want to know what were you thinking tonight?”

It wasn’t a rhetorical question, but Deidara let the lack of answer go. He could see Itachi building up barriers around himself; so thick Deidara could practically touch them, so soundproof no words could reach him. He stood up, looking down at Itachi and studying him for a moment. Itachi narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the pity in his husband’s eyes.

“You got the house signed over to us,” Deidara reminded him. “We pay the bills. To do that, we need to keep our jobs. _You_ need to keep your job. You can’t keep being bailed out every time-”

“I have _never_ expected _anyone_ to bail me out of _anything_.” Itachi pulled himself shakily to his feet, anger enveloping him like a cloak. Deidara knew he’d hit a nerve, but couldn’t quite find the sympathy to care in that moment. He didn’t flinch though; he’d been expecting it.

“I know. And that’s the point, isn’t it? You’ve never expected it, but it happens and you can’t stand it. That’s why you got your father to sign the house over, that’s why you won’t talk to anyone, and that’s why you push me away, yeah. You can’t stand being helped, but you need help, and so here we are.”

Deidara turned his back, for once deciding to be the one who walked away from the conversation. He paused when he had one hand on the door handle, not looking behind him at whatever expression Itachi had on his face. “Sober up, get some sleep, whatever. Be ready at eight thirty.”

He left Itachi where he was, stalking back to the bed and pulling the cover over himself to drown out the world. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily, if at all, but he had to at least try.


	3. The Darkness of Nowhere

**3.**

Eight thirty saw Itachi dressed in his usual smart attire, every inch the professional he usually was. He looked tired, as he’d left not long after Deidara had returned to bed and only arrived back half an hour prior. Deidara had heard him leave from his spot under the covers, where he’d finally fallen back into intermittent sleep. He was a little surprised Itachi was even there, but the possibility of looking imperfect was obviously overriding everything else- as usual.

Deidara didn’t actually care where Itachi had been that night, as long as he hadn’t been doing anything reckless. He wasn’t his keeper and wasn’t going to push him for details, just thankful he was back and looking more sober than before. Though wherever he’d been, sleep clearly hadn’t been on the agenda. Deidara didn’t let it bother him; if Itachi wanted to dig himself a grave, he was at the point where he was considering handing him a shovel.

He wouldn’t though. He would take deep breaths and dig out the love he had for his partner instead, currently buried beneath layers of bitterness, and do what needed to be done. So, he kept his word and found a pharmacy nearby for painkillers and an anti-nausea medication, and was even thoughtful enough to buy some of that fancy smart water that boasted superior hydration too. He attached a set of googly eyes to it and slipped it into his bag, smiling despite himself as he did.

When he returned he found Itachi sitting up on the bay windowsill ledge, leaning his head against the glass as he stared out the open window at who-knew-what.

“Are you even going to let me take painkillers?” Itachi said as he heard Deidara approach, not even turning round to face him. “Do I have your permission?”

Deidara stopped right where he was, feeling his thin patience snap at the tone in Itachi’s voice. He threw the packet of painkillers in Itachi’s direction from where he was standing instead. It bounced off the window harmlessly and landed on the floor; Itachi barely reacted, glancing down at it before looking out the window again.

“You didn’t get any sleep then?”

“No.”

Spite was good. Spite kept him from breaking down completely; he wasn’t a saint, after all. Itachi was being infuriatingly calm for someone who’d made such a bad judgement call that night and it was grating on Deidara’s nerves. “Falling asleep on the job is pretty imperf-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Deidara.” Itachi’s voice was serene, but loaded with an undercurrent of menace. “Being needlessly malevolent doesn’t suit you.”

Deidara had to turn away and stop talking to him, because he knew Itachi had a point. He had to be better than this. He had to actually _help_ Itachi, which had been the whole point of turning him away in the first place, but all the emotions he’d stacked up over the last year were flooding out of his mouth instead. He steeled himself and tried again.

“You’re right. Sorry. But, you do realise you risked looking pretty damn imperfect for this stunt, right?”

Itachi glanced round at Deidara, his eyes guarded. “Don’t think I didn’t plan how this turned out. I drank enough to feel hazy, that’s all.”

“You were a little more than hazy last night.”

“Last night,” Itachi stressed. “It would have passed by morning, which it has. That was fine.”

“I disagree with fine. Now you’re left with a night of no sleep and a mild hangover. Is that any better?”

“I can hide the effects of those.”

“So you plan ahead to make sure you keep up your image, but do you ever think about the _consequences_ of anything you do these days?”

Itachi thought about that for a minute before answering. “The consequences are always negative, and yet I still do them. What does that say about me, I wonder?” He turned away from Deidara, shrugging and shaking his head. “Or maybe I don’t want to know.”

“That’s the most honest thing you’ve said about yourself in years,” Deidara said quietly after a moment’s pause, having to busy himself with something, anything. He set about making the bed, his back to Itachi. “Tonight, when we get back. We’ll sit down and talk like adults, and maybe for once you won’t run away. Who knows if you can manage that, but let’s pretend you can, alright?”

There was silence while Deidara made the bed, fluffed the pillows, looked aimlessly through his holdall, until he finally chanced a look up at his husband. Itachi wasn’t looking at him, still sitting on the bay window ledge with his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around himself protectively. Deidara turned his attention back to his holdall with a heavy sigh.

“The coach is leaving in about five minutes,” he warned, before leaving to board it himself. He left the window seat for Itachi and opened his sketchbook, ignoring his partner when he joined him a couple of minutes later. Neither of them wanted to initiate any kind of small talk, which suited Deidara just fine.

It didn’t last. Ten minutes in, Deidara had closed the sketchbook and was watching Itachi out of the corner of his eye. He could feel an aura radiating off of him, and it was making him uneasy. “Are you okay?”

Itachi didn’t respond, but Deidara could see him clench his fists until his knuckles were white.

“Itachi? What’s going on?”

“Stop.”

Deidara had never heard Itachi’s voice sound so fragile, and he never wanted to hear it that way again. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to stop talking, stop asking, or just stop existing at that point, but every fibre of his being ached to do so.

Itachi wouldn’t meet his eye, knuckles still bone white. “You’re so bitter now. It’s not you. What happened?”

There was really no answer Deidara could give. He knew it was true and that it was unfair. What he didn’t know was how to deal with it. He could taste it every time he spoke, and could feel it in the air every time they tried to discuss things. Like poison, like acid, burning his throat until he couldn’t help but spill how he felt.

“We’ll talk later,” he said instead. For the amount of times Itachi had said those same words back to him to escape an awkward conversation, he felt he was owed the chance to do the same.

-.-.-

Their destination was a field study centre, where the children were assigned to adults in groups of eight and taken outside to a large pond. Itachi couldn’t have cared any less about pond creatures in that moment, but he pretended to listen intently to the centre staff explaining how to use the nets to catch things safely. His group of children were generally sensible so he wasn’t too concerned about Deidara’s worry of them drowning themselves by accident, but he did instruct his group to keep their nets below waist height anyway. Arming excitable children with long sticks that happened to have nets on the end wouldn’t have been his first plan, but he had no power over what the school deemed an educational trip.

It was a nice enough day for being outside, if a little too sunny, so he sat under the shade of a large tree at the side of the pond. Close enough to keep an eye on his group, but bypassing the inevitable sunburn if he stayed out of the shade. He put one hand subconsciously to his right arm, where he’d been burned while sitting pretty for Deidara’s portrait they day they had met.

He’d known the moment Deidara had said ‘no’ to him returning that things were going to be hard. He’d been watching his own behaviour with the morbid curiosity of an outsider, only realising when it was too late that it was himself he was seeing. Both of them were right as well as wrong, and both hurt as well as madly in love with one another. Deidara was bitter and had every right to be; in contrast, Itachi was sick of fighting every day to simply function and had subtly stopped trying a good year or so back.

He’d gone back because living without his soul-mate was impossible, and walked into the rejection he’d been setting up subconsciously for a long time. It stung and he’d spiralled, just as Deidara said, while his mind celebrated the freedom to destruct in peace. He wanted to silence that part of his mind; it drowned out every rational thought he had, lethal and wicked as it filled every inch of his body with lies he believed too easily.

When had it become so hard to breathe? He tried to take a deep breath and choked, realising his heart was racing out of his chest and pounding in his ears. The tips of his fingers felt numb, and he squeezed his fingers open and closed even though he knew deep down it wasn’t going to change things. Panic, his old friend; like a warm blanket that wanted to suffocate him, forcing its way to the surface unbidden to remind him just who was really in charge.

There was nowhere to run. He was in charge here, doing his job as a teacher like a person who had their life together and functioned correctly on a day to day basis. Their briefing when they arrived had included instruction not to leave the students unattended by the pond, and while he knew he could ask Deidara to watch his, he very much doubted he could form sensible words to say anything except ‘I’m going to die.’ Which he wasn’t of course, but his brain was rarely sensible at the best of times, so why would it start now?

Eyes on children, deep breaths. He knew what to do and how to do it, but somewhere between those two things there was a short circuit. Eyes on children he could do, but the breathing part was getting lost somewhere. He wasn’t sure hyperventilating counted as anything helpful, but at least he wouldn’t suffocate.

“Breathe. Just breathe, it’s okay. You’ve got this.”

He hadn’t seen Deidara approach him. Familiar hands fell to his shoulders and held on tightly, forcing him to meet those blue eyes he loved so much. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but all that fell out was a jumbled mess of something incoherent and strangled.

“Focus on breathing. Let it pass. You’re going to die of shame if those kids work out what’s going on, yeah. Breathe in and out.”

_I can’t_, Itachi was saying in his head. Words just wouldn’t come; only parts of sounds that might have once resembled a sentence. _It won’t pass. It’s going to eat me alive. It won’t be shame that kills me._

The strangled noise that sounded like sobbing was too close, and it took him a moment to realise it was him. He tried to struggle free from the safe arms surrounding him, the instinct to flee overtaking him, but the arms only held him tighter instead.

“No, don’t run. I’m watching the students, yeah. Breathe.”

Concentrating on breathing in and out, his head against Deidara’s chest taking in the familiar scent, was the calming effect he needed. The edges of his vision began to brighten as the panic ebbed away, and all that was left was exhaustion. Itachi finally pulled himself free from Deidara’s grasp, shaky and pale but finally present.

“You worried me,” Deidara said, his voice low. “What happened?”

Itachi didn’t answer, risking a glance past Deidara to the pond. Most of the children had stopped, nets suspended in the pond as they all stared in confusion and concern in his direction. He could see one girl mouth ‘what the fuck?’ to her friend. One boy had caught a frog, but it was hopping aimlessly on the floor as he stared with his empty net on the ground.

He closed his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn. _There_ was the shame Deidara had mentioned. Now he had been reunited with his senses, he couldn’t think of a worse moment than right then for his mind to catch up with itself and melt down.

“I think,” he started, swallowing a few times. His throat was so dry. “I think I feel sick.”

Deidara opened his messenger bag and handed him the bottle of water he’d bought that morning. Itachi, despite not knowing Deidara had put googly eyes on it earlier, was entirely unsurprised to see them. The only time he’d actually been surprised by Deidara’s artistic flares in recent memory was when he had borrowed a label maker from work and studiously labelled items around the house with it, right down to the small box that stayed under their bed (now labelled Pandora’s Loveboxxx) and the contents inside of it.

“Wait here,” Deidara said quietly. “I’ll try to smooth things over with everyone.”

Itachi had no intention of going anywhere, sighing heavily as he watched the children slowly start to go back to their work. Alarm bells rang in his mind as he attempted to straighten himself out, even though no amount of brushing down his shirt or absently fixing his hair was going to cover what had just happened. He was no stranger to panic attacks, but it had been a long time since he’d drowned so deeply in one. He had been sixteen, and with his father. It wasn’t a great memory, and of course he’d never told Deidara about it. He’d never told anyone. If you ignored something long enough it went away, right up until it suddenly turned around and smacked you.

“I sorted it with them,” Deidara said as he returned, indicating their colleagues across the other side of the pond. “I just said you were having a bad day, yeah. They really only saw me hug you from over there so they didn’t question it.”

“What about the students? They were closer.”

“They don’t need an explanation as long as they get reassurance you’re alright now.”

Deidara sat next to Itachi, close enough that their shoulders touched. Itachi leaned gratefully against him, resisting against closing his eyes to exhaustion. Activity had resumed as normal at the pond, though many of the students kept looking over in their direction.

“Maybe wine was a bad idea,” Itachi said reluctantly.

“You don’t even like wine! If you’re going to make such horrible decisions, at least enjoy doing it.”

“Apparently wine gives you more of a hangover.”

Deidara eyed him curiously. “You sound like that’s what you wanted.”

Itachi didn’t have the energy to pretend in that moment. “I did.”

“That goes against what you were telling me last night, with your ‘I planned this perfectly so I’d be fine in the morning’ talk.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Itachi shook his head. “I wanted to feel it just enough that it bothered me, but not enough that people could notice.”

Deidara analysed that before ultimately shaking his head in confusion. “Am I supposed to understand any of the reasons why?”

“I would be surprised if you did.”

Deidara gave him a sympathetic smile. “You realise every single one of those kids has noticed you lying against me, right?” Itachi bolted upright, eyes wide, glaring at Deidara for his laughter. “Don’t bother, I think the secret’s out. They all suspected it anyway. You know some of my form kids asked if we’d fucked in your car? I can’t imagine you ever doing something like that.”

“I had similar questions from mine,” Itachi said, finally resolving to lean back on Deidara’s shoulder. “They’re going to be insufferable about this, you know that? This is exactly what I was trying to avoid by keeping it from them.”

“Does that mean I can wear my wedding ring to work now?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“But you weren’t wearing yours.”

Itachi was expecting the badly disguised hurt in his partner’s voice, but it still stung. “Old habits die hard. It’s easier to hide things that cause questioning.”

“Maybe, but it’s probably better not to. A car crash is still a car crash even if you stick a screen in front of it.”

Scattered; broken pieces littered across the floor, with an audience of onlookers. Itachi stared across the pond to his group of children, refusing to meet Deidara’s eye. “But what if the driver _wants_ to crash the car?”

It took Deidara a moment to answer. “Then the driver should probably talk to somebody about that, which I’m hoping you’ll do tonight when we get back, yeah.”

“And where does that path lead us, Deidara?”

“It leads us wherever it leads us.” Deidara shrugged, giving Itachi his most reassuring smile. “I know it’s scary and I know you’re not good at laying things out, but will you be honest with me when we talk later? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

In times of crisis, there are always people helping others in need despite the chaos around them. The world could be falling apart, and yet Deidara would stay as the constant; a pillar of support, and a safe place to ride out the storm. He wavered from time to time, like any mortal being, but he would return like the ocean when the tide came in and dig his heels into the sand so he wasn’t swept away again.

Itachi still hesitated in his response, but ultimately he nodded in agreement. “Alright. I promise you I’ll try.”


	4. Answers

**4.**

“So are the rumours true, Sir? Are you and Mr. Uchiha married?”

“He doesn’t have a ring,” one boy pointed out.

“It’s a friends with benefits kind of thing, obviously.”

“No way, Mr. Uchiha isn’t the type to do that! He’s a one and done kind of man.”

The group had finished their trip to the study centre and were on their way back to the hotel. The afternoon had gone smoothly enough, except perhaps for the moment one girl tried to put a large frog in a Petri dish to study under a microscope, and when the same girl tried to smuggle said frog in her bag when leaving.

“I love the narrative you lot have worked out for us,” Deidara said, interjecting into the conversation going on around him. “And are you implying I _am_ the type to sleep around?”

“Well, yeah,” the girl in the seat behind him said, rolling her eyes as if Deidara had just questioned the colour of the sky. “You’re the wild type. Everyone knows _that_.”

“I think I’ve seen Mr. Uchiha’s younger brother up the club,” one boy said, pointing in Itachi’s direction. Itachi was asleep leaning on Deidara’s shoulder, having spent most of the afternoon trying to stay awake. “I asked him if he was his brother and he told me to go home because I was underage.”

“Really? He’s a hypocrite, yeah. How did you even get in the club anyway?”

“Fake ID, Sir.”

Deidara sighed heavily. “I see. Am I supposed to be pretending not to hear any of this?”

“You’re an Art teacher,” one girl said, as if that somehow explained everything. “So are you married?”

“None of your business, yeah.”

“He’s asleep against you though.”

“That’s alright. He’s very tired.”

“You were cuddling him earlier, when he was upset. Is he okay now?”

The conversation immediately simmered down, many students looking expectantly in Deidara’s direction. He was impressed with their collective resolve, since he’d been expecting questions all afternoon.

“He’s fine. You know when you have a really bad day, and everything just works against you? It’s just one of those days, yeah.”

The conversation immediately sparked back up, kids discussing their own bad days amongst each other. Deidara overheard snippets, smiling to himself at the innocence of ‘my sister stole my favourite dress and ruined it’ and ‘my cat ate my Christmas chocolate and threw up on my bed because he’s a greedy bastard.’ Fifteen was such a difficult age; not yet an adult, not really a child, with no definition of the in-between. Friends came and went, hormones and attitudes ran high, and they were still expected to carve out a spot for their future and know exactly how to fill it. Impossible; even in his mid-twenties, Deidara still wasn’t completely sure how to be a reasonable adult with his life together. Itachi, for all his efforts, definitely wasn’t either.

The girl who had tried to smuggle a frog out of the centre sighed wistfully, looking across the aisle to Deidara. “I wonder if Billy has a girlfriend.”

“For the last time,” her friend next to her said, her thin patience so very evident in her tone. “No-one- literally _no_-_one_\- gives a single _fuck_ about your frog.”

“Maybe he has a boyfriend,” another girl suggested. “Hey Sir, can frogs be gay?”

“Billy might have been a girl anyway,” the girl with no patience continued. Her friend looked scandalised, one hand over her mouth. “Did you even look?”

“If Mr. Andersen had let me put him under the microscope I might have found out.”

“Yeah, but do you even know what frogs look like down there? Do they even have dicks?”

“Okay, that’s enough talk about frogs,” Deidara said, swiftly wanting to end the conversation before it fell any further into the gutter. Too late; he checked straight out and closed off his ears off, turning his attention to Itachi instead.

“Hey,” he said softly, putting on hand on his arm to rouse him. “We’re about five minutes away.”

“How do I feel _worse_?” Itachi said as he pulled himself upright, rubbing his eyes crossly. Deidara knew without him saying that he was annoyed at his contacts.

“Because a twenty minute nap doesn’t make up for anything. Here, you need water.”

“I really don’t,” Itachi said, but he took the bottle offered to him anyway. “Drinking water after doesn’t help.”

“One litre of water for two small glasses of wine. That’s what the article I found said.”

“It said to drink it at the same time, not after.”

“Look, do you have a headache still? No? Thought not, because you’re not dehydrated anymore.”

“I had a headache because I had a panic attack, Deidara. It’s been hours, any hangover effects are long gone. Are you going to let me get any sleep when we get back?”

Deidara knew he probably should, but he found himself shaking his head. “No. We need to talk first.”

He wasn’t going to voice it, but well rested Itachi could hide things. He had his wits about him, and knew all the ways to position that perfect mask. Tired and post-hangover Itachi had no chance of doing that, and that was what he needed. The one thing Deidara had learned very quickly was that the patron saint of perfection couldn’t be perfect unless he was functioning at his best.

Of course, that didn’t stop Itachi lying down the second they got to their hotel room. Deidara pulled his pillow out from under him, shaking his head. “Nope. Get up. You’ve spent ages avoiding this conversation, yeah. There were plenty of other times we could have done this, but you didn’t want to. Sort your contacts out first, you keep rubbing them and you’ll make your eyes sore.”

Deidara honestly didn’t mind sometimes feeling like a caregiver. He knew Itachi was the same for him sometimes, especially when he was deep in the clutches of something artistic. He had a habit of ignoring the world around him when it came to getting the ideal moment, even if it meant falling out of the tree in the front garden trying to take a photo once. He winced slightly at the memory, though it did make him smile because he’d managed to scare Sasuke when he fell. It had been endearing, right up until Sasuke realised he was fine and hit him with a broken branch in relief.

Itachi hadn’t moved, looking pointedly at Deidara. Deidara rolled his eyes at him and shooed him with one hand. “Contacts. Sort them.”

“I don’t know if I can talk.” Itachi’s voice was quiet, and he completely sidestepped what Deidara had said as he finally sat up. “I don’t know where to start.”

“You could start by telling me why you left.”

Itachi glared at him, cheeks flushed in shame as he folded his arms tightly, protectively, across his chest and leaned against the headboard. “Does that matter now? Do I really have to answer that?”

“You do,” Deidara said with a confirming nod. “If you say it out loud it makes it real. I need to hear it, and you need to say it. Even if you think it sounds crazy or even if you think I’ll get mad, yeah.

Deidara could see the gears turning in Itachi’s head. He was looking like a wild animal, trapped in a corner with nowhere to run. Deidara didn’t like feeling like the prey; he knew that, really, the prey was Itachi’s own mind, but it didn’t stop him feeling like the beast hunting him down.

“I am _so_ tired,” Itachi finally said instead, closing his eyes and tilting his head back onto the headboard.

“No, you’re avoidant,” Deidara said sharply. “You asked me earlier why I’m so bitter- _this_, right here is part of it! Don’t I at least deserve to know the reason why you walked out?”

“Of course you do,” Itachi said softly.

Deidara noted the complete lack of any further elaboration. “Truthfully, which do you want more? To be perfect, or me?”

“You,” Itachi said immediately. “Always you, Deidara.”

“Then can you please_-_” Deidara stopped, not liking the shrillness in his voice. Pausing wasn’t enough, and it continued to seep out as he spoke. “_Please,_ just for once in your life, can you care about me more than how you look to everyone in the world? It’s not enough to just say you do, yeah. I’ve heard that for years. I want to _see_ it, and I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”

Deidara wasn’t at all surprised when Itachi flinched at his words, struggled for a moment to say something, and then fled the room so quickly it made Deidara’s head spin. He took a few moments to collect his thoughts and calm himself down, before giving chase.

The weather had turned with the evening, and it was raining heavily. For once Deidara couldn’t enjoy it as he stepped out into it, unable to hear any footsteps over the sound of rainfall but able to see Itachi crossing the road up ahead. He jogged after him and caught up easily, inwardly thanking how tired his husband was else he’d have potentially had a real chase on his hands.

“Hey,” Deidara called, reaching out and grabbing Itachi’s arm once he was close enough to. Itachi wrenched it free and kept walking, so Deidara grabbed it again and yanked him roughly to a stop. “Stop! Will you just talk to me?”

He kept his hand tightly around Itachi’s lithe wrist, only caring a little if it was hurting him. He needed him to stay exactly where he was and actually talk, before Deidara lost his mind.

“I can’t do what you ask.”

Itachi’s voice was so quiet Deidara almost lost it to the ambient sounds around them. It also sounded much like all the things he’d heard before, and he had no patience for it. “Why? You either care enough to put me first, or you don’t. How is that such a difficult choice for you?”

“It’s not a choice,” Itachi hissed at him; a venomous snake, intent on poisoning anyone that came close. Deidara steeled himself against it, confident the antidote flowed through his veins.

“Really? It sure looks like one, yeah.”

“Okay,” Itachi said after a moment, turning round to finally face Deidara. Deidara let his wrist go, but readied himself to give chase again if needed. “Eighteen months ago, when I was in therapy again. Do you remember that?”

“Of course I do. You didn’t engage with yet another therapist and faked your way to discharge, yeah. So?”

“What makes you think I did that?”

“Because that’s what you told me.”

Itachi shook his head slowly, breaking eye contact and looking slightly shamed. “And what makes you think I wasn’t lying?”

“I’d like to think my husband _doesn’t_ casually lie to me.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I’m a really good liar, Deidara. You know that. I’ve spent my whole life lying to everybody about who I really am. I don’t like lying to you, though. Don’t mistake me.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I did engage with that therapist.” Itachi hesitated, while Deidara narrowed his eyes in confusion. “She actually diagnosed me with something; obsessive compulsive personality disorder. So, I _can’t_ do what you’re asking, because with that in mind her therapy still wasn’t working, and I ditched it halfway through because it hurt to realise nothing could help me. I knew you’d leave if you realised it was never going away.”

“Wait, what?” Deidara was absolutely not expecting that response. “What the hell?”

“You’ve always been clear that it’s either you or it, and it looks like my messed up brain chemistry made that choice for you.”

“Holy shit,” Deidara said, for lack of anything more eloquent to say in that moment.

“Holy shit indeed,” Itachi echoed flatly. “Do you get it now? Telling you would mean you leaving me.”

“No!” Deidara said, finally finding his voice. “Itachi, you’re an idiot. Oh my God, you are _so fucking dumb_ sometimes, I swear. You should have talked to me about this! All I saw was you sabotaging yourself, faking your way through therapy and not taking medication when you should have been. I thought you didn’t want to try because it was hard, and I wasn’t worth trying for. But that therapist gave you the closest thing to an answer you’ve ever had, and you walked away from whatever she had to say that might help?”

“It wasn’t working! I couldn’t stand to fail at the one thing that was supposed to help me.”

Deidara had never wanted to simultaneously hug and slap somebody so much before. “Listen carefully,” he said lowly. “Because I’m going to explain something really important to you yet again, and hope this time it sticks. Do you remember a couple of years ago when you had pneumonia?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Deidara clenched his fists and exhaled slowly, mentally counting to five. “Can you just humour me please?”

Even Itachi could tell not to argue with Deidara right then. “I remember some of it. My memory cuts out around the time you took me to A&E.”

“That’s because you were actually delirious when I dragged you in,” Deidara said. “I’ll jog your memory for you. They gave you IV fluids and antibiotics, your fever was so high they wouldn’t let you have a blanket so you yelled at the nurse, and then you passed out trying to get out of bed.”

“I yelled at a nurse?”

“_That’s_ your take away from this? Anyway, all that only happened because you refused to take care of yourself and see the damn doctor, even when you’d been coughing for two months straight. What did the doctor who discharged you say about the antibiotics he gave you?”

“I know how antibiotic resistance works, Deidara.”

“Do you see where I’m going with this? You can’t stop therapy halfway through because _it won’t work_. If she identified something that needed working on, of course it would be worse at first because you mentally take all those shitty things out of whatever box you’ve stored them in inside your brain. You quit before she could help you put them all back in neatly, so you left yourself with even more issues than you started with.”

Itachi considered that, and Deidara could see the tension in his shoulders drop just slightly. “She said I was at risk for a lot of other things. I was frightened. I didn’t want to get worse.”

“What is the thing she diagnosed you with anyway? OCD?”

“No,” Itachi said, shaking his head. “OCPD. It’s not the same thing, but it does cross over a bit. The symptoms are nothing we didn’t know already, but it actually has a name.”

“And if it has a name, then I can look it up. I can find out how to support you, yeah.”

Itachi didn’t reply, and Deidara didn’t force it. He could almost see the way Itachi’s mind was whirring and trying to piece together the new pieces of reality he’d been handed. Knowing how much Itachi hated being out in the rain, Deidara put a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave him a weak smile. “We’re soaked, yeah. Shall we continue this inside?”

Itachi stared at him, opening his mouth to reply, then closing it again. He struggled with his thoughts for a moment, looking up at the stars instead of speaking. Deidara followed his line of vision, ignoring the eyeful of rain he got for it, taking a moment to marvel the blanket of stars above them.

“I’m not going to walk away,” he said softly. “I only contemplated walking away this time because I felt you didn’t care enough about me to push aside some misguided quest to perfection. Context matters, yeah. So does communication. You should have told me.”

“I-” Itachi began, but his voice caught in his throat. Deidara took his hand and pulled lightly, prompting him to follow. He kept a tight hold on that hand as they crossed the sodden road, footsteps audible in the layer of rainfall coating the slick floor. Deidara pretended he didn’t see Itachi cover his face with his other hand as they walked, doing a terrible job of disguising his tears.

Outside the hotel Itachi stopped abruptly, bringing Deidara to a stop as well. “I thought you were going to leave,” he said, his voice a mix of sad, confused, and everything in-between. “I had to push you away so it didn’t hurt as much when you did, but it _did_ hurt, and I just hurt myself instead to punish myself for being so broken.”

Deidara reached out a put a finger to Itachi’s lips, shushing him softly. “Don’t. You’re not broken. You have this awful habit of building things up in your mind. You jump to a whole bunch of conclusions and then torture yourself with them, and they’re never right. There’s so much you can’t control in this world. You can’t shape the direction of every single thing you ever do. That doesn’t make you broken; that makes you human.”

He didn’t expect Itachi to fall like the rain onto the soaked path. “Hey,” he said, kneeling down as well, reaching out and putting his hands on his shoulders to ground him as Itachi sobbed bitterly into his hands. “Come on, you’re breaking my heart here.”

When he didn’t get a reply, Deidara reached out and gently pulled Itachi’s hands away from his face, forcing him to look up. Eyes red rimmed, long eyelashes flattened by tears, soaked through to the bone with rainfall, and yet Deidara had never seen Itachi looking more perfect than right that moment.

“I love you so much,” he said softly. “You have no idea how much. I couldn’t draw anything better than how you look right now.”

“What?” Itachi finally managed to say, allowing Deidara to tenderly touch his cheek.

“The stars, the rain,” Deidara said, trying to describe how he was feeling and failing miserably at it. “You’re the most exquisite piece of art I’ve ever seen. It’s all the little imperfections that make you my kind of perfect, and all the little things that make you human. Like when you once finished a geography lesson about climate change so fired up I overheard the kids talking about it later and feeling inspired by your words. Or the way you roll your shirt sleeves up slightly because you read some article online about how people find it attractive, so you started doing it and hoped I might notice.”

Itachi lowered his hands to his white shirt sleeves, hands tracing where they were rolled. Deidara took the moment to place a hand on the back of Itachi’s head, pulling him so their foreheads touched. “And I do find it attractive by the way, but mostly because the fact you even cared about something like that is endearing. I would marry you all over again if I could. Even though I know you’re a stupid perfect liar who can’t stand being human, yeah. I would.”

“Stop it,” Itachi said, struggling with the words. “I can’t stop crying as it is. Don’t make it harder.”

“You really can’t take a compliment, can you?” Deidara said with a heavy sigh. “Don’t stop, then. I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

Itachi didn’t stop; couldn’t, rather, Deidara guessed. He put his hands out to comfort him, but Itachi flinched when he touched him. He was obviously feeling vulnerable, so Deidara pulled his hands away and instead just kept his word to stay right there, enjoying the soft thrum of rain on the ground around them and musing just how annoyed Itachi was going to be when he realised how drenched he actually was. Deidara took the moment for what it was right then, surprising himself with how at peace he felt. This had been a long time coming, but they were managing it. They were coming out into the light at the end of the tunnel, together and stronger. Things were going to be alright in the end.

“Who are you trying to get validation from, Itachi?” He asked once he felt Itachi was calm enough to reply. “It’s not your father anymore.”

“I don’t know,” Itachi said. His voice was less fragile, so Deidara reached out took his hands. This time Itachi didn’t flinch. “The world in general, I guess.”

“You should only need it from yourself,” Deidara told him firmly. “What do _you_ want to do right now?”

“Sleep,” Itachi told him immediately.

“Okay,” Deidara said with a nod. “So, let’s troubleshoot that. You can’t sleep right this moment because you’re currently sitting on the floor in the middle of the rain. You can take steps towards sleep, like getting up and coming inside and changing your clothes. But without those steps, sleeping is going to be so much harder, right? So you should see all those steps through first before you get to the end result.”

“I am truly so, _so_ tired,” Itachi said, and his fatigue was evident in his voice. “I don’t have the energy for the other steps.”

“Are we still talking metaphorically?” Deidara said, looking concerned. “Or do I need to set up a tent out here for you?”

“Of course I meant metaphorically,” Itachi said, and Deidara knew if he was in any other mood he might have even rolled his eyes.

“I never know with you sometimes. Look, you don’t have the energy; that’s understandable, because you’ve been doing this a really long time. So you need to let others carry some of the burden for you. No-one gets anything done by doing it all themselves. Rely on other people to help you, and it’ll be an easier journey. I promise you.”

“What can you do though? You can’t live in my mind for me.”

“No, but I can encourage you to break out of your need for perfection. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again happily. I can go with you to appointments and stay with you for any that I can. I can check on you during work hours, even if it’s just by text. I can sit with you and let you vent about those really bad days, like today. Don’t forget about Sasuke, either! You know he loves you dearly, and he’d make you cinnamon cake every single day if he thought it would help you.”

Itachi didn’t reply, but he was clearly taking in what Deidara had to say. Deidara pulled himself up from the floor, holding a hand out to Itachi. Itachi took it, standing up and frowning at his now-drenched smart work uniform.

“I wondered how long it was going to take you,” Deidara said, clearly amused by the turn of events. “You did notice it’s raining, didn’t you?”

Drenched through and looking rather like a drowned rat, Itachi gave him an incredulous glare and indicated his clothes. “No, clearly I didn’t notice.”

“_There’s_ the man I married,” Deidara said happily, smiling warmly as he indicated the hotel behind them. “You can sleep, I promise, but you need to take a warm shower first. You’re shivering.”

Once back at the hotel Itachi collapsed into bed within seconds of stripping his clothes, shaking his head when Deidara lightly pushed the idea of showering first to warm up.

“You can warm me up if you’re that concerned,” he said, sounding almost petulant.

Deidara happily compromised, crawling under the covers and curling up around Itachi. He was cold too, but their shared body heat soon warmed them both to an even temperature. Itachi was asleep within minutes, leaving Deidara to shift so he was resting his head on Itachi’s chest instead. Listening to the rhythmic beating of Itachi’s heart, Deidara allowed himself to relax fully for the first time in as long as he could remember.


	5. Blend

Deidara was a natural light sleeper. Itachi had fallen into a similar pattern when they first started living together, but they had been living apart. It meant Deidara woke earlier and had plenty of time to look into Itachi’s diagnosis over breakfast, eventually deciding that knowing the name of what was going on his in husband’s mind wasn’t as important as helping him with it. A label meant nothing; Itachi was still Itachi, and that was all that mattered.

“Hey,” he said softly as he sat on the bed and lightly put a hand on Itachi’s sleeping shoulder. Itachi looked up at him with half lidded, tired eyes and smiled fondly. He stretched out like a languid kitten sleepily in a scene so cute Deidara almost felt bad for what he was about to say. “We need to leave.”

“When?”

“About a minute ago.”

“You had better be kidding.”

Deidara couldn’t help but laugh lightly, shaking his head. “Nope. Looks like we’ll be late today, yeah.”

He hadn’t even finished the sentence before Itachi was out the bed, flying across the room to the wardrobe. Of course he’d bothered to hang up his work clothes in the hotel; by contrast, Deidara’s were still crammed into his holdall.

“Did it not occur to you to wake me earlier?” Itachi said as he frantically buttoned his shirt.

“Of course it did. I just chose not to.”

Itachi gave him an incredulous look that screamed ‘why?’, while Deidara gave him a beaming smile in return that said ‘you know why.’

“I can help,” Deidara offered, grabbing his cologne from the table by the bed. Itachi was now kneeling down on the floor in front of his holdall, pulling things out clearly looking for something, so Deidara sprayed it into the air and let it shower him in a fine mist. Itachi stopped, looking up at Deidara with eyes that spoke of murder.

“Wonderful,” he said flatly. “I don’t have time to shower, and now I smell like your Versace. The girls are going to love this.”

“Those kids won’t know anything about men’s cologne, yeah. At least, they shouldn’t do. They won’t notice.”

Itachi ignored him, emptying the rest of his holdall out onto the floor. “Have you seen my hairbrush?”

“It’s on the bathroom counter.”

Itachi was up and gone in moments. Deidara noted that he’d left the contents of his bag strewn everywhere and mentally ticked another checkbox in his mind, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door as he watched Itachi brushing his hair into a ponytail in front of the mirror. Itachi’s shirt was un-tucked, his tie was over one shoulder and not yet in place, and he still looked half asleep. Deidara took the sight in gratefully, loving every one of the imperfections.

“You look so cute right now,” he said, unable to stop himself. Itachi, who had a hair tie between his teeth, didn’t respond- though honestly, Deidara wouldn’t have expected him to. “Does it help you to know I already went and bought you a coffee? It’ll probably be a good temperature now. I’ll buy you breakfast at the museum.”

Itachi stopped tying up his hair for half a second to glance across at Deidara. One thing Deidara had noticed over time was how expressive Itachi’s eyes were when he wanted them to be. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve for anyone else the way he did for Deidara, and right then his eyes spoke of something akin to forgiveness. Not quite, though; maybe about halfway.

“You slept with your contacts in,” Deidara pointed out.

“I know. There’s not much I can do about that now.”

“You should probably change them.”

“Probably, but someone didn’t give me enough time to do that, did they?” Deidara beamed like sunshine, happy to take full responsibility. “Seriously? You’re proud of this?”

Deidara checked the clock on his phone indifferently. “We’re about three minutes late so far.”

“For heaven’s _sake_,” Itachi hissed at him, picking up his own cologne nearby and spraying his wrists.

“That’s a great plan,” Deidara said as he watched Itachi rub his wrists to the pulse points on his neck. “Now you smell like an eclectic blend of Versace Eros _and_ Dior Sauvage. I can’t possibly think of what the girls will say about you smelling like both of our cologne.”

Itachi paused, apparently taking that thought in, exhaling wearily as he fixed his tie. “Have you got the room key?”

“Yeah, and I have your phone too. I planned this, remember? Just worry about yourself.”

“I really don’t get you sometimes,” Itachi said as he brushed past Deidara to the exit. “Come on, we need to go.”

Once outside the room and walking through the hotel corridor, Deidara watched as Itachi straightened his appearance as they walked. Tucked his shirt in, straightened his cufflinks, rolled his sleeves in that alluring way. By the time they reached the coach he was looking every inch the professional he usually was, exuding perfection.

“There they are,” the driver said good-naturedly as they boarded. “Oversleep, did you?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Deidara said as apologetically as he could manage while Itachi looked away sheepishly. “Something like that.”

“Would you like to explain to me what that was this morning?” Itachi asked once they were seated, gratefully taking the coffee Deidara handed to him.

“I’m doing what I always used to do,” Deidara said with a shrug. “Be a little fallible, yeah. If you won’t do it, I’ll make you. It’ll do until you can get back into therapy.”

“I can be fallible,” Itachi said, though the protest in his voice was light.

“Uh huh. I mean fallible like a normal person, not fallible in the ‘I need to leave this class so I’m going to drop coffee down myself to do so instead of just leaving’ kind of way you’re so well acquainted with.”

Itachi didn’t get the chance to reply, as one of the girls sitting directly behind them leant over the seats to them. “Mr. Uchiha, do you feel better today?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Okay good, because we were all talking about yesterday last night and we didn’t know if you’d be here today.”

Itachi closed his eyes, cheeks scarlet as he turned away from her. “Well, everything is fine. Sit back in your seat, please.”

“At least she didn’t tell you that you smell good,” Deidara whispered, trying not to laugh as he put a sympathetic hand to Itachi’s arm. “Which you do, by the way. The only other time I smell our colognes mixed like that is after we-”

“Deidara!” Itachi cut in, his voice quiet but shrill. “Stop right now.”

“True.” Deidara sat back in his seat, smirking a little to himself. “Wouldn’t want to let the cat out of the bag, right? I hate to break it to you, but that cat is out the bag and running. Oh! Speaking of cats, can you tell Sasuke to stop texting me photos of his?”

“Tell him yourself.”

“I did, but he knows they weird me out so he keeps doing it.”

“Pity,” Itachi said, clearly revelling in a fragment of revenge to Deidara. “I wonder why he would do such a thing to you. Could it be because you’re a jerk?”

Deidara reached into his pocket and pulled out a small case, holding it out. “Your contacts,” he said. “I picked up the travel case with them in for you. You can change them when we get there, yeah. Your eyes look irritated.”

Itachi took the case slowly, sighing and giving Deidara a tiny smile. “You really are a jerk, Deidara. You kept that until the right moment, didn’t you?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I just love you and want the best for you, even if you don’t know what that is sometimes.”

“I suppose,” Itachi said with a weary sigh, turning his gaze to the window and looking momentarily wistful. “Thank you.”

-.-.-

The museum had been found lacking, much to the student’s collective delight. It meant they’d headed back to the hotel much earlier than planned with a couple more hours of afternoon than they’d bargained for to fill. It also meant the teachers had the same as well, and Deidara apparently had plans on how they should spend their newly acquired time. He’d told Itachi to stay put and dashed off somewhere, promising he’d only be a few minutes.

“Do I even _want_ to know?” Itachi said with a weary sigh as Deidara struggled his way through the hotel room doorway with a stack of two chairs that had been clearly taken from the hotel restaurant. “Please tell me you asked to borrow those.”

“Of course I did,” Deidara said, sounding very sure. Itachi was less convinced, but let it go. “Here, come and sit down.”

He placed the chairs opposite each other, gesturing for Itachi to sit in one. He did so tentatively, looking at Deidara expectantly.

“Close your eyes.”

“I’m very suspicious,” Itachi told him, but he did it anyway.

Despite his curiosity he kept his eyes shut, sensing Deidara moving around the room. Then he was back at Itachi’s side, gently moving his arms so they were positioned on the arms of the chair. Itachi realised a moment before it happened what Deidara was about to do, snapping his eyes open as Deidara tied one of his shoelaces around his arm and onto the arm of the chair.

Itachi had many questions, but went with the most obvious. “What are you doing?”

“Tying you to the chair,” Deidara said as he tied Itachi’s other wrist up. Itachi hadn’t even bothered trying to fight it; with one wrist already bound, there was no point. “I want to draw you.”

Itachi hadn’t been expecting that response. “Like this?”

“Of course, yeah. That’s the point.”

“In your normal sketchbook?”

“Why not?”

“Because you leave it lying around the house all the time! What if Sasuke picks it up to look through? Or my parents?”

Deidara tore a page out messily instead, rolling his eyes. He caught Itachi’s look as he did so, laughing teasingly. He held up the sketchbook, jagged edge visible inside where he’d pulled the page. “I’m sorry, is that bothering you?”

“You know it is.”

“Oh well.” Deidara snapped the book shut and laid the paper on top of it, getting straight to work.

“So,” Itachi said, prompting for attention. Deidara glanced up at him in question. “How long am I supposed to stay like this?”

“As long as I say.”

“Is that so?” Itachi gave him a confident smirk, switching how he was sitting. Gone was the nervous, stiff demeanour. In its place was a domineering figure whose stance screamed authority, despite his wrists being bound. It didn’t escape his notice that Deidara took two wanting glances up at him before continuing to draw.

“You damn tease,” Deidara muttered. A light flush stained his cheeks pink, much to Itachi’s amusement. “I didn’t have my mind in the gutter actually. I just wanted to draw you in a position that takes away your control.”

All the pieces of the jigsaw slotted in to place in Itachi’s mind, except one. “Why?”

“So every time you look at that picture you can remember how being bound actually feels. You can’t move. You don’t have control over when you get released. You’re more vulnerable than you are when unbound. It might be safe and familiar, staying right where you are, but it’s no way to live. I took away your control when I said ‘as long as I say’ and it didn’t worry you. Why is that?”

“Because it’s you,” Itachi said easily. “You’re safe.”

“I was safe yesterday. I was safe two months ago, too.”

“I wasn’t feeling safe until we spoke,” Itachi muttered sheepishly.

Deidara laughed outright at, looking up at Itachi incredulously. “This is just more evidence to support why you should have spoken to me about all of this. If I wasn’t so worried about you all this time I’d never let you live this down.”

He said no more and carried on with his sketch, leaving Itachi plenty of time to muse what he’d said. It made sense, because of course it did. Often Deidara was the voice of reason in their relationship, much to Itachi’s surprise when he’d realised as much.

“Thank you.”

Deidara didn’t even look up, shaking his head with a sigh. “Don’t thank me. I love you, remember? I don’t need thanking.”

“I appreciate you still trying, even though it was frustrating for you. I know I’m not the easiest person to handle sometimes.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But, Itachi? Please stop lying to me.”

Itachi didn’t even have to hesitate in his reply. “I promise I’ll stop. If you stay through all this, you’re probably not going anywhere.”

“Not probably- definitely.” Deidara stopped what he was doing and laid it to one side, observing Itachi like the cat that got the cream. “I can colour it later. I have a better idea right now, yeah. Do you know how intoxicating you’ve been all day with both our cologne on you?”

“I’d apologise for that, but it was your fault in the first place.”

Deidara moved to Itachi, untying his wrists slowly and deliberately. “I’d leave you there a little longer, but I rather want you to be able to use your hands, yeah.”

It had been a while since either of them had experienced intimacy; Itachi was aware that was why Deidara was a cat in heat, passion in his eyes at the smallest provocation, and why he himself had been riled the moment the laces had touched his wrists. “Cuffs are better anyway,” he said lightly.

“I had to improvise, okay? Here, stand up.”

Things between them were still a little delicate, but with each gentle touch and every suppressed gasp of pleasure, bridges were being built upon the foundations of what they already had. Itachi was fire sometimes, but he hadn’t burned either of them in his blaze of glory. Deidara was ice, cool and soothing, smothering just the pieces that burned and leaving the rest frosty, but safe. Together their union burned brightly enough to see the way on their path, yet not enough to incinerate everything it touched. Perfection, one might say, if such a thing truly existed.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

“I’m going to miss these guys. I’ve rather liked having cats around.”

“Sure,” Sasuke said with a heavy sigh, watching Itachi pet one of his Sphynx cats, Pestilence, under her chin. “You’ll miss the _cats_.”

“You realise you’re awful to live with?”

“You’re married to Deidara! He’s stupidity incarnate, how am I worse to live with than that?”

Itachi smiled softly, switching his attention to the other waiting cat, Famine. “You forgive a lot of transgressions when you marry someone. He overlooks mine, and I overlook his. Besides- I sleep with him, so he’s automatically exempt from criticism.”

“Really? It wouldn’t have hurt you to keep your mouth closed, you know. Gross.”

Itachi stood up, opening his arms with a small smile. Surprised, Sasuke looked at him for a moment before allowing himself to be hugged tightly. “Thank you for taking me in, Sasuke. I appreciate it.”

“Sure. If I had to take one of you morons in during your spat, I’d have picked you over him any day.”

“I see. It’s nice to feel loved.”

“You’d better feel loved,” Sasuke said as they broke apart. “You pulled some awful things this time around. He wasn’t wrong to walk away for a while.”

“I know. We’ve talked about it. I already requested to go back on the waiting list for therapy, and I’ll see it through to the end this time. I promised him.”

Sasuke gave him a look that might have been construed as pouting if he were any other person. “Promise me too.”

Itachi tapped him lightly on the forehead, a loving smile on his face. “I promise.”

He grabbed his holdall from the sofa, taking one last glance into the living room over his shoulder. Famine and Pestilence were watching intently from their respective spots on the sofa, almost as if in question. Feeling ridiculous, Itachi ran back to pet them both one more time before joining Sasuke outside.

“Maybe they’ll actually sleep on my bed again tonight,” Sasuke mused as he unlocked his car, gesturing for Itachi to get in. “They really love curling up on you at night.”

Itachi, though happy to have the cats sharing his space at night, could think of a much better companion to fill that role. He was glad to pull up outside his- their- house, the overwhelming feeling of home sweeping over him. Sasuke waved him off, leaving him to walk the front path alone. Deidara was home and waiting, and he couldn’t think of a better feeling.

The door had googly eyes on it. Large googly eyes painted onto card, and taped to the front door. Itachi unlocked the door and left them where they were, calling out to Deidara as he stepped inside.

“In the living room,” came the call back, so Itachi made his way there. Once inside he took in the familiar surroundings with gratitude, eyes falling to the little details that made it theirs; the canvas art of them that Deidara had painted for him their first Christmas, the ridiculous unicorns painted on the wall, and Deidara seated at the table with his sketchbook open.

“I’ve missed you,” Itachi said, crossing the room in quick strides and throwing his arms around Deidara tightly. “I’m so glad to be home.”

“I’m glad you’re home too,” Deidara said warmly, burying his face into Itachi’s hair. “Now I don’t have to talk to Sasuke anymore. Do you realise how difficult it’s been, having to talk to him every day to keep an eye on you?”

Itachi pulled away, gesturing to the holdall he’d dropped as he’d entered the room. “He made cinnamon cupcakes for me to bring home.”

Deidara exhaled wearily. “_Fine_. He’s not all bad I suppose.”

The ease back into normality didn’t take long at all. Getting into their own bed that evening with his husband at his side felt so natural to Itachi it seemed almost impossible it hadn’t always been that way, the feeling amplified when Deidara fell asleep quickly and promptly sleep-stole most of the duvet.

“Idiot,” Itachi murmured as he tugged on the edge of it, eventually managing to salvage enough to cover him. After all, nothing in the world could ever be completely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're all done! It was so fun revisiting this world, and I hope you enjoyed it too. Thank you for reading!


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